Arya's Sister
by freakylady67
Summary: This story is based on the Child Ballad Cruel Sister  When I heard the song the first thing that popped into my head was ARYA!  So I wrote this story.  It's not all that good or anything but it's ok I guess.  :  Hope you like it.


In the land of Du Weldenvarden there was a second daughter born to the queen. She was different from her older sister for her hair was golden as the sun and her sister's hair was coal black, her name being Arya. The younger sister's name being Fiona after her golden hair.

The two sisters' were close in age and got along well through out their entire lives until one day…

When they grew older and began courting, a fine young elf took a liking of the younger sister better. Arya envied her younger sister with great passion. She was greedy and wanted all for herself. But little did she know that her younger sister wanted nothing more in the world but for her sister to be happy.

"Sister will you go with me to walk by the river for a short while?" Arya asked seemingly with good intentions on a dark windy day.

"I shall take delight in my time with you sister," Fiona replied sweetly.

And so they went walking together, speaking softly to each other as they went. They reached a bend in the river and sat to rest. Arya got up and walked behind her sister, eyes flaring with rage. She harshly pushed her into the swirling river and rain began to fall from the sky as if it were crying.

"Sister, reach to me your hand and let me live!" Cried Fiona as she bobbed up and down in the swirling water.

"Never shall you come to shore again," Laughed Arya wickedly.

"Oh cruel wind and rain…" Fiona wept, "Please let me live and all that's mine I'll surely give!"

"Your own true love I shall have and more and you will never come to shore," whispered Arya as she walked away.

Fiona's clean white gown wrapped around her ankles as she struggled up for breath, but to no prevail. Her lungs filled with water and there she floated silently like a swan on the thrashing waters.

Arya returned back and simply said that Fiona had fell in to the river and that she had tried to help her but couldn't and she drown in the river. Therefore, Fiona's true love was now Arya's.

There was to be a feast held in honor of Arya's recent love and the finest minstrels had been invited to come and play their lovely music. As they walked along the river, a girl's half rotted corpse came floating down the river.

Feeling pity on the poor girl, they took her breast bone and made into a harp rarer than any in all the land. They took three locks of her golden hair and with them strung the white graceful harp. With her tiny finger bones they made tuning pegs and with the remnants of her dress they made a silken case in which to carry the harp.

The feast was filled with the most prestigious of all the elves and was decorated with the most elaborate elvish craft. The happy Arya sat at the head of the most esteemed table with her true love at her right hand.

When the minstrels arrived with their newly made harp, they first ate a little and drunk a little. Boasting of their high quality harp and that its music would melt a heart of stone. Anticipation began to build among the crowd but the minstrels insisted on not beginning their music until the moon was high above the trees.

Arya herself was even excited about the music. Surprisingly, guilt never pushed up in her mind about her sister's death. She felt that Fiona had deserved it and that what ever happened would never be found out for as long as she lived. The only witness had been Fiona herself.

Finally enough had been drunk and enough had been eaten and the moon was high enough that the minstrels would now be able to play. They took the dirty white silk off of the harp and it glowed in the moonlight against their pale fingers. They tuned it and began to play but the harp only sang "Oh cruel wind and rain…"

Arya's face went white and her palms began to sweat. _Surely this is only a coincidence._ She thought to herself. Surely there had been a song written about the cruel wind and rain. No one had seen. No one knew.

The minstrels attempted to play again. But this time the harp sang out "The bride her younger sister drowned."

By now Arya was incredibly tense and was getting strange looks from through out the crowd. _It's only a song. It's only a song. It's only a song…_

The minstrels plucked the strings again and it sang out "Oh cruel wind and rain…" This time less sweet and crueler.

The minstrels also had no idea what was going on. They looked at Arya shifting in her chair. Something wasn't right. Not in the least. They picked up the harp again but this time it sang out "In terror sits the black haired bride."

Now every breathing being's eyes were on Arya. She breathed coolly and tried to collect herself but her thoughts were racing and her eyes were shifting from side to side.

The minstrels tried a third time and the harp this time sang "Oh cruel wind and rain…" again but now it sounded cruel and the notes seemed to pierce their way into each ear.

Arya cringed at the sound of it. She knew that the harp was singing on its own and it was not just a song. She looked harder at the harp case and noticed that it was made from her sister's dress fabric.

The minstrels played one last time and the harp sung out "And now her tears will surely flow!" In a dark screech of notes.

Arya's actions were eventually forgiven due to her high status and Fiona was never spoken of again. But now every rainy day in Du Weldenvarden, you can hear almost a whisper on the wind crying out, "Oh cruel wind and rain…"


End file.
